Designated Driver
by BeeCityz
Summary: Hotch gets drunk and decides to share one of his deepest, darkest secrets with Reid. Little did he know that it was a secret they shared. Hotch/Reid, plenty of fluff and implied lemon. If you don't like it, don't read it.


"Congratulations, guys." Hotch held up his shot, as did the rest of the team. "You did a great job. Without your help, _all_ of your help, we never would've caught him. Or save his 11 hostages. So…cheers."

There was a chorus of 'cheers' and everyone downed their drinks in one quick gulp. Reid, on the edge of the crowd of his coworkers, sat with his messenger bag in his lap, watching with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Reid, come on. Are you sure you won't have anything to drink?" Elle glanced over at him, looking genuinely concerned. Ever since she had joined the team a few months ago, she had taken on a mother/sister-like role with Reid. However, more frequently she acted like the irresponsible adult.

"Yeah, I don't drink." He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm fine with water. Thanks."

"Come on, kid." Morgan said, turning towards Reid away from Hotch and JJ. "You gotta loosen up sometimes. You're always so _tense_."

"I'm not tense, Morgan. Its barely legal for me to drink. And alcohol is an acquired taste." He crossed his legs and moved closer to the table, looking around. It was him, Morgan, Elle, Hotch, and JJ. Gideon had refused to go drinking with them, and Garcia had a date. With her computer.

"What do you mean, 'barely legal?' How old are you, anyway?" He leaned forward and gave Reid a very comprehensive once-over.

"Twenty-one."

"Oh." He leaned back and looked at Elle, who looked at Reid, baffled.

"No way are you twenty-one."

"I'm twenty-one." Reid smiled and shrugged. "I guess a lot of people tend to overlook that, though, considering my IQ is probably higher than all of the people in this room combined."

"Thanks, man." Morgan clapped him on the shoulder and took a sip of the beer that the waitress had dropped off. "Makes me feel real good."

"You'll get over it."

Elle snorted, took a _gulp _of her beer. "Yeah, Morgan. You'll get over it."

"Give 'em to Reid." Hotch mumbled, side-stepping on the curb and falling against the SUV door. "He's _sober_."

Everyone laughed at that, and Reid sighed. This was exactly why he didn't drink; because it wasn't worth getting drunk. That, and there was the hangover that these guys were going to have to deal with tomorrow morning, and they probably wouldn't remember a good portion of what happened tonight….

"Hey, kid." Morgan, who was only a fraction as drunk as the rest of the team, dropped the keys in Reid's open and waiting hand. "Drive safe."

"Totally." Reid got in the driver's seat and buckled his seat belt, started the car. Hotch climbed in next to him, and Elle and Morgan squeezed into the back (JJ had left earlier because she had 'family business' that she had to attend to.)

"So, Reid." Hotch mumbled, his head lolling to the side. Reid sighed, which made Hotch grin, and the two in the back laughed. What the hell was so funny, anyway? "Who ya gonna take home first?"

"Elle is closest, then Morgan, then you." Reid answered flatly, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway. This was going to be a long drive.

"Oh? How do ya know that? You _stalking_ us, Reid?" That was Elle. He sighed and turned on the GPS, then hit the button that would retrieve the directions to Elle's house that they had programmed in earlier.

"Yup. That's Reid for ya. Dr. Reid: Stalker." Morgan laughed at his own joke, and Hotch and Elle joined in after a few long moments of them processing.

"Oh, what do you know. We're here."

"Already?"

"Yes, you live like, five minutes away from the bar. That's why we picked it." Reid pulled up in front of the house and sighed, parking the car. "You can get inside without dying, right?"

"Reid!" She said, raising her eyebrows in mock hurt. "What a terrible thing to say!"

"Sorry. You should get some sleep. You'll feel better."

"Okay, _Mom_." She said, snorting. "See you guys Monday."

Hotch and Morgan said something along the line of, 'Yeah…' and Reid pulled out as soon as she was inside. A silence stretched between him and the other occupants of the Chevy, but he didn't really mind; driving was one of those mindless things that he could do and just let his thoughts wander. It was relaxing.

"Dude…Reid…are we almost there?" Morgan asked, groaning. "I don't feel so good."

"Yeah, just hold on…" Reid glanced down at the GPS, took a few turns, and pulled up as quickly as he could in front of the apartment building. "Here we are. Go…make yourself better."

Morgan quickly jumped out of the car and stumbled quickly inside, turning his key in the main lock that buzzed him through. Reid and Hotch watched him go inside, both of them with mild amusement, before he disappeared down a hallway.

Reid put the car in drive and started driving away when Hotch turned to him again. "So. Looks like its just you and me."

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem."

"Um…" Hotch blinked a few times and looked at Reid, smiled, and lurched forward. Reid's eyes grew wide, for a moment trying to process what was happening, before he jumped out of the car and ran around to Hotch's side.

"Oh God, Hotch, please don't throw up in the car. Gideon will kill me." He unbuckled Hotch's seat belt and tugged on his arm, pulling him toward the house. "Where's Haley? She'll help you."

"She's…at her mother's…" Hotch managed, stumbling forward and leaning on Reid, who almost collapsed under the weight.

"Great…" He sighed and stumbled forward with Hotch, and when they got to the door, he tried the knob. Locked, obviously. "Where's your key?"

"Oh…" Hotch fished around in his pocket, leaning even more against Reid, who was quickly growing impatient. How did he get stuck doing this, again? "Right here…"

Reid grabbed the key and stuck it in the lock, afraid for one fleeting moment that it wouldn't work. However, it turned, unlocking the door, letting them in. He turned on the first lights that he saw, which illuminated practically the whole house, found the living room, dragged Hotch into a sitting chair.

"Hotch, where's the kitchen?"

"Um…" Hotch looked around and shrugged. "I dunno. Don't make me think. My head hurts."

Reid groaned and starting going through the rooms of the house, and it didn't take him very long to find the kitchen. There was a little passage adjoining the living room and a bathroom, and a second door that led into the kitchen.

He began rifling through cupboards, looking for classes or cups or anything. After about ten minutes, though, and more of Hotch dry heaving in the living room, he grabbed a mug out of the drying rack that said, "World's Best Dad" and filled it with water, then all but ran back to the living room.

"Here, drink." He handed it to Hotch, and when his senior profiler didn't do anything with it, took his hands and lifted the mug to his lips. "Trust me. I'll make you feel better."

Hotch drank some, drank a _lot_ actually, then let the mug down and sighed. "Mm…Reid, you're good at this."

"Good at what? Helping my drunken colleague regain some sense of sobriety?"

"No…" Hotch shook his head and smiled. "Taking care of me."

Nearly three hours, several cups of water and equally as many trips to the bathroom later, Hotch was half asleep on the lazy chair and Reid was sitting to his right on a couch, sighing deeply. Never had he had to take care of someone like that, and if that was what came with being in a dedicated relationship, he wasn't sure he wanted in.

"Reid…" Hotch breathed. He actually was sobering up, and Reid was glad; he didn't really like drunk Hotch that much. "Come here."

Reid stood up and walked slowly over to Hotch, standing next to him. "What is it?"

"Come _here_." Hotch repeated, narrowing his eyes up at Reid and smiling. "How am I supposed to talk to you when you're that far away?"

His voice was low and sleepy, so Reid leaned down and placed his head next to Hotch's. "What?"

Wordlessly, Hotch tilted his head upward, grabbed Reid's tie, pulled him down, and crushed their lips together. It was a forceful, drunken kiss, and the younger of the two could taste the scotch on the other's lips.

Reid pushed against Hotch's shoulders and pulled away, but the older got him around the waist and pulled him down on top of him. "Hotch! What the hell? Let go of me!"

"Reid, hold on." Hotch lessened his grip on Reid so that the younger could adjust his position, but held him tightly enough that it would be stupid to try to get away, and would probably just hurt them both. "There's something I want to tell you."

"What? You couldn't have told me while I was standing and not…laying on you?"

"No."

Reid groaned and sat up, but Hotch kept a firm grip on his waist. "What, then?"

"Let me kiss you again."

"No."

"Why not?"

Reid sighed. "Because you're drunk. You won't remember any of this in the morning, anyway. And you're only half aware of your actions. You would never do this if you were sober."

"That's a funny thing, Reid. That you should say that." Hotch mumbled. He pulled Reid a little closer, and to his surprise, the other profiler didn't fight against him. "Because, a lot of people think that they do things that they would never even conceive of when they're drunk, because they're drunk…"

"Because its true, yes." Reid finished.

"No, actually. Its just that…when you're drunk, you have this blind courage, and you're not really afraid of anything. So you can do something and not be afraid of the outcome, whereas when you're sober, if you did something…" He pulled Reid closer; so close, in fact, that Reid could smell the diluted scotch on his breath. "You would be completely afraid of the outcome. So much so that you probably wouldn't make a move."

"But…" Reid muttered, his eyebrows knitting together. "What if…you could make a move when you were sober, because…the outcome would already be in your favor?"

Without responding Hotch closed the space between them, pressing their lips together a little more gently that he had the first time, but firm enough to make his intention clear to Reid.

Reid kissed him back hesitantly, half shocked that Hotch had the same feelings that he had been harboring for years and half eager to finally enjoy something that until now had been a pleasure restricted to his fantasies.

Hotch pulled away shortly after, but only a little; their lips were still touching, and Reid was gently kissing his lower lip. "Open your mouth." He commanded softly.

The younger complied, parting his lips for Hotch's tongue, which immediately snaked inside. He tightened his grip around Reid's waist, bringing their bodies close together, every contour matching up perfectly.

Reid moaned and Hotch began massaging his own tongue, rubbing them together, enjoying as deeply as he could the feeling of Reid's hot, wet mouth against his. He crushed their lips together, and Reid let out a soft moan, grinding his hips against Hotch's.

"God, Reid." Hotch gasped once they pulled away. "You're so adorably easy."

"Thanks." Reid said sarcastically, smiling. They were both panting, Reid a little more heavily than Hotch. "So um…"

"Yes?"

"Could we maybe…" He shrugged and leaned into Hotch, brushing his lips against the other's jaw. "Move this to the bedroom?"

"Good morning." Reid murmured, pressing his lips against Hotch's and letting his fingers linger on his cheek.

"Good morning, beautiful." Hotch smiled and leaned up, capturing Reid in another kiss. "How do you feel?"

"My butt hurts." He muttered. "But other than that I'm great."

"That's good." Hotch grinned and rolled over so that he was perched over Reid, and Reid was laying against the pillows.

"What about you? Hangover?"

"Nope."

"Oh really?" Reid raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Hotch cupped his cheek, kissed his forehead.

"I think it was all of that water you made me drink."

"Hey!" Reid pouted and snuggled into the overly large white dress shirt he was wearing, breathing in deeply. "It helped, didn't it?"

"Yes it did." Hotch gave Reid an amused once-over and raised his eyebrows. "Is that my shirt?"

"Yes." Reid smiled and snuggled deeper, breathing it in again. "It smells good."

"What does it smell like?"

"You." He reached up and slid his arms around Hotch's neck, kissed his cheek softly. "You smell good."

"Mm, so do you." Hotch nuzzled Reid's neck, placing a few soft kisses on the sensitive spots that he had discovered the night before.

A comfortable silence began, Hotch nuzzling and kissing Reid's neck, Reid winding his fingers in his superior's dark hair and tilting his head to allow him more access.

"Spencer?"

"Mm?"

"Remember when I told you that Haley was at her mother's?"

Reid pulled back and gave Hotch a confused look. "Yes. Why?"

Hotch blew out a long breath and smiled at Reid sadly, shrugging. "She's…not coming back. She filed for divorce a few weeks ago."

"Oh." Reid leaned back against the pillows, not really sure what to say. Its not like he knew how it felt, and…he couldn't exactly say that he was sad about it, either. "I'm…sorry." He reached up and cupped Hotch's cheek, rubbing his thumb soothingly against his cheek bone.

"That's okay." Hotch said, smiling softly.

"Are you sure?" Reid's eyebrows knit together. He didn't really understand how it could be _okay_; he'd read enough about divorces to know that they were pretty nasty things.

"Yeah." Hotch leaned down and buried his face in Reid's neck, breathing him in. "It's okay. Because I have you."

Reid laughed softly and kissed the top of Hotch's head. "You're drunk."

* * *

**A/N: **Heyyyy guys.

So, I have some bad news.

Tastes Like A Russian? Its going on hiatus. The beginning was just wayyyy to underdeveloped. So, for compensation, I'm going to work on a few more series for you all to enjoy. I'm really sorry. I know I've been building up to this for a while, both with you guys and myself, but it needs more time. Sorry. ^^;

On a more positive note, I think I've got my writing itch back (I kind of lost it for a few days in case you didn't notice) so I'll be working on plot and stuff. If you really, really want to know what's going to happen, I suggest you all harass Xanjen, because she virtually co-writes these things with me.

Thanks for understanding, those of you who do. Those of you who don't; don't flame, kay? Just get over it. It'll be published eventually.

~Sara


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